“Get on with it, ya wankers!”
Veles gathered whatever strength he could to lift the axe. Something felt wrong, but between the haze of the musk-soaked loincloth covering his muzzle and the din of the jeering crowd, it was tough to focus. Still, he was wary of the situation as he knew darn well that just about everything about this screamed “Trap!”.
Veles cleared his mind and composed himself. He didn’t want to draw the ire of the crowd, especially not the big deer that was practically staring right through him.
But he needed to make sure that he didn’t push himself to the point of collapse, and he still had plenty of time to get through the tree. As long as was smart about chopping, he could get this done well before sundown. If he could chop a proper wedge into the trunk, all it would take to knock it over would be a decent push. So instead of panicking and flailing around like the others, Veles made a few slow, deliberate chops and took in his surroundings. If there was a trap, Veles just had to go slow and watch while the others would act like the proverbial canary in the coal mines.
After the first few panic-filled minutes, Cress and Shiloh were making good progress and had gotten into a rhythm. They were musicians, so it made sense that they’d find their stride by swinging the axe to a beat. It benefited Veles too. He could work on their beat at half their speed, which gave him ample opportunity to look for an escape route.
The way back was guarded by the crowd, no use trying that. There was a trail out of this clearing that didn’t seem to be guarded, though that’s likely to head up to the lodge the stag spoke of. Beyond those two trails was nothing but dense trees all around him. Trying to run through the forest’s underbrush was basically running blind. Even if Veles had known the area well, he wasn’t going very far through that, especially when he’d be hunted down by men with crossbows.
And taking a quick look at the stag again, Veles realizes he’d have even less chance once the stag got involved.
At first, Veles had thought that the stag was just some generic archer NPC, but the short sword on his hip and his seemingly uncanny familiarity with the forest just screamed ‘Ranger’ to the arctic fox. Which meant that this stag wasn’t just some faceless NPC, he was a scripted enemy designed specifically to hunt down players who tried to escape.
Veles took a deep breath in an attempt to arrange his observations into a plan, giving himself another lungful of the deer’s musk. All the trouble Veles would have running through the forest, that deer wouldn’t. Rangers weren’t slowed down by their favored terrain, which was almost certainly ‘forests’.
And that wasn’t Veles only concern – rangers were divine spell casters. Just, in the base game their spells were mostly related to animals, but who knew what Finn had added into his fetish fueled world. That meant that the ranger likely had magic Veles wasn’t able to see.
No matter how fast Veles might be, as long as they were in the forest, that stag would be able to chase Veles down and pin him under that powerful musclegut. The fox could just imagine himself, pinned and helpless with his nose buried in the buck’s musky taint.
The image of himself buried under that stag flooded Veles’ mind once again. He could just imagine himself taking one long sniff that manly scent, only to find his body flattening out. He could see himself shrinking down losing feeling in his arms and legs, becoming single-minded in his fixation on the buck’s sweaty balls and thick cock.
“This wasn’t good enough for you, was it?” Oswin, the deer, would say, holding the loincloth gag that Veles would have thrown away. “Well now you’ll be getting all this straight from the source!”
The deer would chuckle as Veles’s body stiffened, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as his skin turns a leathery brown. His thoughts slowing down, only leaving a desire to be a good loincloth for that sexy powerful amazing Ma-
“C’mon, ya pansy! Ain’t ya got a man’s bone in yer body, or are ya just a little sissy?”
Veles was shaken out of his fantasy by the crowd. Had he really fantasized about becoming that bastard’s loincloth? That definitely wasn’t one of his fetishes! Or at least he thought not. Maybe he should take another deep breath. You know, just to make su-
The fox shook his head, finally doing what he should have as soon as his hands were cut free and removing the gag from his mouth.
He took a deep, cleansing breath. Finally, some fresh air! Oswin’s cigarette smoke hung in the air, but it was better than huffing his sweaty loincloth. Veles paused on that thought, unsure how much he believed it. He looked at the loincloth on the ground, unable to suppress the thought that maybe he could grab it when he was done chopping.
Veles looked at his tree, seeing that he’d made barely any progress and a jolt of panic shot through him. He must have stopped swinging at some point!Veles quickly rectified that, not noticing the fur on his hands shifting from a snowy white to a light tan. He looked around, thinking the calls from the group were for him, but seeing how Amicus was doing made it clear where their focus was.
The poor otter was really struggling – not that Veles thought he would have any easy go of it, but from all the otter’s huffing and puffing, he wasn’t doing half as well as Veles had expected. It was actually a kind of sad sight, just a few hours ago he watched that otter prove himself in a fight and notch a crossbow bolt into several bandits. Now here the otter was, gasping for air as his tunic hung loosely off his body, struggling to even lift a simple axe. Something about that struck Veles as strange, but he’d dwell on it later. Right now, he needed to swing.
Lift, swing, pull.
That rhythm the other two band members had found was easy to get into, and Veles found himself pulled along, his fluffy fox tail condensing into a tan furred tube coiling and swaying with the motion. He was behind, but he could make up the time if he just found his pace.
Veles looked over at the source of the rhythmic chopping, only to notice that the two, formerly fat guards seemed to be in fit form as far as Veles could see, almost as if they’d been chopping trees their whole lives. Veles thought it would be wise to follow their lead. Lift, swing, pull, Veles found himself beginning to make progress with each swing. He felt a bit proud of himself, focusing on the progress he was making. Each chop gave his muscles a little more power as the runes on his axe glowed.
With every swing of his arms the flab on them slowly melted away. There was pull with at hips as his midsection slimmed down. His stomach became packed with tight muscle intertwining with his fat into a thick musclegut, not as big as the stag’s, but an impressive indicator of power. His tunic tightened as his pecs solidified into a hard shelf, a deep V forming in the front of his shirt down to his navel. Veles felt his pants tighten as they hardened into a thin leather suited for traveling through woodland, and his cock stirred and throbbed within them, aroused just by the workout, and the light scent of sweat lingering around him. All the while, that tan fur was slowly spreading over his body, accentuating each change.
He wondered if that stag would be impressed. What was his name again? Oswin, or something, right? It sounded right, though he was finding it tough to remember what else Amicus had tried to tell him. He looked back over at his boyfriend and couldn’t help but feel... disappointed.
Amicus was still having trouble swinging the axe.
It didn’t help that he was dressed in some ridiculous tunic that was big enough to fit three of him. Honestly, it was kind of cruel of whoever put that on him. The poor thing barely had the strength to lift his axe in the first place. Putting a heavy, soaked cloth over him wasn’t going to help. When it finally fell off of the twinkish otter, Veles couldn’t help but be relieved. The shivering boi seemed relieved too, even if he was left nude. Shaky hands gripped a seemingly oversized axe. But still, as pathetic as it looked, he kept trying to swing.
Lift, swing, pull.
Veles didn’t stop swinging as he watched on.
A crowd had started to surround Creek and Stream. The two beavers were really going at it now, and it certainly showed on the deep cuts they’d managed in their respective trees. Veles, on the other hand, had barely made a dent in his.
Well, they’d been doing this their whole life, after all. Veles had only swung an axe... a few times? His memory was hazy on that point. He wasn’t a natural like the brothers were. He was strong, sure, but a man’s role in the forest is shown in his methods, and the beavers were just experts. No matter to Veles, everyone had their strengths, and he had his sharp mind and powerful magics.
Lift, swing, pull.
When the beavers’ tree fell, one after the other, the crowd cheered.
Veles wanted to look. The brothers were always putting on a show, both to any crowd and to each other. The transforming fox chuckled to himself as the beaver brothers shit talked each other. They might be smack talking right now, but everyone knows they’ll be smacking something else later. He wanted to join in the festivities, but he had a job to do. He was about to focus back on his tree when he noticed someone from the crowd approaching his boyfriend.
It was a chubby raccoon man with a belly the size of a beachball and arms as thick as hams. He was clearly a bit older than the rest of the crowd, probably in his forties, and had a handsome lumberjack’s beard that matched the dark fur around his eyes. The well-built raccoon lumbered over to Ami, the twinky otter still trying to swing despite his evident exhaustion.
The raccoon came up behind the otter and wrapped his arms around him, eliciting a high-pitched yelp from Ami.
Veles watched the raccoon whisper something in Ami’s ear, and the otter shivered, his cock hardening beneath him. Then the raccoon moved his paws up to the otter’s face, and the twink let out a muffle surprise when the beefy raccoon slipped his fingers into his maw.
“Get ‘em wet, boi,” The older raccoon growled.
Veles watched his boyfriend moan like a slut as he sucked on the big man’s finger. Ami went to touch his chest as he sucked, but the raccoon slapped his paws away.
“Keep yer hands on that handle,” The raccoon said, and the otter obeyed, digging the axe head into the dirt to keep it in place, with the bottom of the handle resting against the tree. Under his hands, those runes continued to glow as the raccoon pulled his hand from the twink’s mouth.
Immediately, those fingers went to work on the boi’s hole, poking and prodding, loosening him up. The otter moaned, moving his hands up and down the shaft of the axe as the fur on his hands began to darken, turning from a dark brown to black as he was toyed with from behind. Soon the burly raccoon was finished with the preparation and put his hands on the lithe boi’s womanly hips. His big gut pressed up against that bubbly ass, just about the only part of Ami’s body to not lose much fat.
“You gotta get this fat ass of yer’s lower if you want Daddy’s cock,” The older raccoon growled.
Ami leaned forward more, pressing his ass back into his daddy, that fur around his ass turning an ashen grey as his tail poofed up, cute little black and grey rings forming around it. The boi lowered his hips to put his hole level with his daddy’s cock, a position that was clearly familiar to him. The grey fur spread down Ami’s legs ass the big man maneuvered the boi’s tail so it wouldn’t get in the way while he rested his gut on the boi’s back.
“Ready?” The older raccoon asked, as the younger twink nodded his head.
With that approval, the bigger raccoon pressed his cockhead to his boi’s eager and prepped hole, and pressed in.
The raccoon daddy’s first thrusts were slow, in order to acclimate Ami’s hole to it. Then the elder raccoon gripped his boi’s hips tightly and buried his cock to the hilt. The young twink moaned out loudly and effeminately, writhing on his lover’s fat cock. The younger man’s slender hands slid up and down the handle, tracing the glowing runes as though stroking a cock.
As the runes on Ami’s axe grew brighter, faint whisps of light began to emanate from the hilt. Like translucent tendrils, they wrapped around Ami’s arm, spreading grey fur as they went.
Seeing that, the older man sped up, knowing his boi was ready, and began thrusting in rhythm. Pull, level, thrust, making sure every part of the boi’s ass felt his cock filling it. Ami wailed and writhed as his daddy claimed his messy hole. The magic tendrils, and the fur that came with them, spread like wildfire up his slim chest and neck.
As they reached his head, they began to give it a light massage, reshaping his flesh in the process. Ears popping up a little more, nose becoming a little more pointed. A cute mask forming around his eyes, the tendrils continued their work, finalizing a young, boi toy raccoon to be used as fresh meat by his new Daddy.
Watching the change, Veles couldn’t help but sigh.
Messing around with Ami was fun, but he realized now that what he wanted was a real man, not a twink. The raccoon boi was always eager, but everyone knew that no one was ever going to please him like his daddy could. And as he watched the younger man get plowed by his father, a strange feeling settled over Veles. Like watching the end of an experiment, those feelings of love and wonder floated away from his mind.
Veles felt an overpowering sense of déjà vu, which momentarily snapped him out of his haze and caused him to realize that this wasn’t the first time he’d felt like this. But when had he felt like this before? He wracked his brain. The last time he felt like he lost his love was... Fergus!
Realization hit him like a tidal wave.
He lost his love for Fergus right after he had been trimmed by Glitz! Something’s changed, and he’d been too lost in the moment to realized it.
Veles panicked, looking around. Creek and Stream were surrounded by a cheering crowd as they march to the lodge, nothing new about that. Ami was getting railed by his father which was normal for him. Oswin was pretending that he wasn’t checking out Veles’ tight ass in his leather pants. Veles would have to pay him back later; a deer shouldn’t be playing around with a big cat like that.
And with that it hit him, since when was he a big cat?
He checked his hands, powerful and well worked. They looked right, but something about them was wrong. As he tightly gripped his axe, he saw it. Glowing runes on the handle, practically a big “I’m cursed!” sign, just sitting there the whole time! How could he be so foolish!
Veles dropped the axe immediately and began assessing himself.
As he poked and prodded his body, he took an inventory, searching his mind for any memories to help him. He was bigger now he guessed, probably six inches taller. Putting his hands to his head, he tried to estimate its shape. Rounder, bigger ears, a strong powerful jaw, well trimmed mustache and goatee. He found himself admiring the look for a moment before shaking his head.
He searched through his mind, a fox! He was a fox before, right? A chubby, fat arctic fox. That sounded right, but it didn’t feel right.
Every time he moved his well-built arms, his well-defined legs, every time he let his tail sway seductively in the wind, it all felt right. This form felt good, but it wasn’t what he was. No matter how good it felt, it was still some sort of magical effect. Soul magic? It would make sense, but who was capable of doing such a thing amongst these bandits? It didn’t seem like the stag would be that type of guy, so maybe these were made by or ordered from someone else.
He went over his assessment of himself again. He was probably a puma... Or rather, a cougar. Maybe even a mountain lion depending on where you were from. Veles supposed that any of the names would work – they all referred to the same animal after all.
So he’d changed species, but what about class? Veles thought back to Glitz’ spell book and Madam Illusia’s instructions. Yep, all still there. Veles was happy that he still seemed to be an intelligent wizard.
He looked around, the crowd had mostly gone now, and Ami and his daddy were starting to move down the path themselves, the younger raccoon’s tailhole leaking his father’s cum as they walked.
Right now it seemed like it was just him and the stag, and the sun was going down.
Veles considered turning around and casting fireball on the smug bastard. Nothing was stopping him anymore. The gag was gone, his hands were free. He could probably take one crossbow bolt before he cast his spell and still live, if hitpoints were still a thing. But that seemed too easy. No, he was going to beat the stag’s game first, then knock this tree down without the axe. And looking around, he realized he could doubly do it without spells either.
Some memories of when he was human surfaced, and some inspiration from some camping trips came to mind. The ground was dry, the summer heat had withered the leaves on the ground into what would be an excellent tinder. He grabbed a bunch of them and stuffed them into the wedge he’d made. Then he took the rope that had been cut from his wrists and a couple of sticks, creating a friction igniter. With the point of one stick firmly in the wedge, he quickly pulled and pushed the other stick, building up heat at the point. And in a surprisingly quick amount of time, a spark formed in the crevice, quickly building into a flame.
As the sun got lower, the flame got higher. Burning away at the base, the tree began to sway. And just before the sun fell over the hills, Veles gave his tree a push, felling it in time. After conjuring some water to put out the flame, Veles was ready to wipe the smug grin off the stag’s face. He might have changed physically, but he kept his mind, and he’d beat that stag at his own game.
“And there we go-” Veles turned to face the stag, smirking. And found a word caught in his throat. “-Happy?”
It came out weak as his heart raced. He hadn’t really taken a good look at the stag since he started, and now what he was seeing was taking his breath away. It was the same man as before, no doubt. But now here he was, causing Veles’s heart to beat, just like that rhythm before. Bump, bump, bump, the stag’s big, powerful musclegut looked too damn sexy on him. His arms were cannons, his legs were equally fit and strong, as much muscle as his species would allow. The man’s pectorals were straining his leather armor, his cock threatened to come roaring out from his tight pants.
And worst of all was that smile. That arrogant grin that found Veles simultaneously infuriated and infatuated, plastered on one of the most handsome faces he’d ever seen. A square jaw with confident eyes, the kind of man you dream about being, and being with.
“Very,” Oswin said, striding up to his puma. Veles found himself stepping back for a moment before the deer caught up with him, placed his hand on the big cat’s chin, and pulled him into a kiss.
Veles’s mind exploded.
It felt so good, to be kissed by a man this sexy, this in control. He almost moaned into the kiss, before stopping himself. This bastard changed him! Did something to his head, made him into a big sexy strong puma man! Veles tried to hold on to that anger, but as the kiss continued, he found it melting down to mild indignation.
Fine, if the stag wanted a real man, he was gonna get it.
The puma grabbed the stag by the waist, twisting his arm, and wrestled him down onto the ground. Soon, the buck found himself on his back, the powerful puma on top of him.
“Are you sure about that?” The mountain lion purred as he put his muzzle close.
He could smell him, a hint of fear, lots of arousal, and... that musk. That scent that drove him wild for the whole hike. The smell of a man. He took a deep breath, and then pressed his muzzle into the buck’s. Taking control of the kiss from Oswin, making it clear that he wasn’t some sissy boi like Ami. He was a man, and if Oswin wanted him to just bend over and get dominated, he was gonna fight him every step.
As he lifted from the kiss, muzzles close together as they stared into each other’s eyes, Oswin responded.
“Yeah, you’re perfect.” Oswin grinned.